


Death of a Poet

by shuuki



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Gen, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuuki/pseuds/shuuki
Summary: "Vive la France. Long live France! Long live the future! "A little Oneshot about the last moments of Jean 'Jeahn' Prouvaire.





	Death of a Poet

**Author's Note:**

> My first written work in English. I hope you enjoy.  
> Please leave a commentif you liked it :)

**Death of a Poet**  
  
_Remember the sweet life we led_  
_when we were both so young_  
_when to look our best and be in love_  
_was our heart’s sole desire?_

_Do you recall our countless pleasures_  
_and all those shawls now turned to rags?_  
_oh! many ther sighs that have escaped_  
_our heavy hearts and heavenwards have flown_

  
The words peal out in my head as if I just had spoken them. A beautiful poem. It awakens a warm feeling in me. The pain disappears for a moment and I am back among them. Oh my beloved brothers.

Then reality hits me hard. It's like a punch in the face. No. It's a punch in the face. The soldier standing in front of me drops his hand and says something, but I can‘t hear it. In front of my eyes, the scenes that have just happened play out. The flag. The dead old man. The attack. Gun fire. Smoke everywhere and the inflamed gunpowder that stank so horribly and burned my eyes. I was just standing on the ridge of the barricade with the carbine in my hands.  
Side by side with Bahorel. He had collapsed under the bite of a bayonet and had stumbled down the barricade. I wondered if he was alright? And how can it be that I am still alive? There was this soldier. My weapon was unloaded and I did not have time. Before he could aim with his gun or hit me with his bayonet, I attacked him. It was the one who had wounded Bahorel. Miserable pig. Then we fell and now I am here, surrounded by National Guardsmen.

  
"Hey, boy!" He is still shaking me and his words are coming to my ear. I raise my eyes and see how his eyes widen. Do I look so scary? "What's your name, Republican?" The soldier askedin a factual tone. "Jean! Jean Prouvaire." My voice sounds deep and proud. She has never sounded like that before. The soldier pulls me to my feet and I get up. Despite the pain in my left leg, I stand upright. I do not have to look around to know that there is a wooden splinter in my thigh and it is bleeding profusely. The last piece of the barricade that stays with me.

Slowly I'm also able to perceive my environment again. There are uniformed men standing around me. I do not know where I am. I can‘t see the barricade, can’t hear my friends. I could be miles away. Only the screams of the wounded that ring out in the night give me the certainty that the battlefield can‘t be far. Would they come and save me? They probably would, if they only could.

"Did you kill the king's soldiers?" Another question from the soldier. My eyes remained fixed on his eyes. He is obviously uncomfortable, but he tries to maintain his attitude. "Yes!" I answer. The soldier shakes his head and beckons two men. He gives them signs with his hand. Shortly after, I know what they mean. I am put by the two uniformed a few steps away against a wall. They flank me so I can‘t run away. But I would not. Others load their rifles. They get ready to do the trial for me. In her own way. Neither of them looks directly at me.

Finally, they line up around me. The dark runs aimed at me, stare at me like ravenous predators. I‘m not afraid and I am completely silent. My heart glows and my heartbeat gets louder. He sounds for France and he would fall silent for France. I look forward to death without fear. It could not be that bad and whatever awaited me on the other side, it could not be worse than this world. I would move into the garden of the Lord and there I would be free. There I would not need any weapons and at some point we would all be united, in peace, together. This thought comforts and strengthens me.

The metallic click tells me that they are ready now. The rifles are loaded, the taps cocked and the powder would ignite immediately. But they are still just aiming at me. The soldiers next to me step off and the one who had questioned me comes out between the shooters. "Any last words?" His voice is final. He does not even bother to blindfold me. I do not deserve that. But I probably wouldn‘t have allowed it anyway.

I know exactly what I want to say. The words come naturally out of my mouth and reverberate loudly in the silence. "Vive la France. Long live France! Long live the future! "Maybe they can hear me.

The soldier nods and disappears behind the wall of rifles. Then everything happens very fast. Flashes. Loud crash. Infinite pain. I can feel their bullets piercing my body. Like stones that fall through the water surface, they penetrate through my skin into my flesh. The pain they cause, circles, until it fills my whole body. I do not break down. Not yet. The wall in my back keeps me upright. Support me. Then she seems to give in and a moment later I see the pavement. Blood trickles through the grooves. Is it mine or the blood of the fallen soldiers? I do not know and I do not care. The boots move away from me and they leave me to death.

  
The first thing missing are the sounds. I can not hear the calls anymore. Silence covers me like a heavy veil. Then my vision disappears. As hard as I try, the world is blurred and misty before my eyes. Next, the pain fades. Everything disappears and I am enveloped in darkness. It is not bad. The end is here and I greet it with open arms. We will meet again, my friends. In a better world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> This Oneshot is my first own work that I translated from German into English so it may has some grammer issues.  
> I hope you liked it though. If you want to read the Original (in german), check it out here:  
> https://www.fanfiktion.de/s/52dd8b15000381d515d1a3af/1/Tod-eines-Dichters  
> Also you can find me on tumblr: itsrevolutionarythoughts
> 
> Also wish you a happy new year.


End file.
